


How to Date a Bratty AI: No Manual Provided

by Chyme



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Awkward Dates, Dating, Interspecies Romance, Post-Canon, Romantic Gestures, or so Ai believes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-07 20:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21464368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chyme/pseuds/Chyme
Summary: Ai is an advanced AI, the love of Fujiki Yusaku’s short sixteen-year-old life, and also a brat who can throw a tantrum at the drop of the hat.It’s a good job then, that Yusaku is oh-so-talented at giving him a hard ‘no.’ Or is he?
Relationships: Ai | Ignis/Fujiki Yuusaku
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	How to Date a Bratty AI: No Manual Provided

Ai is a brat. Barely over a decade old, he throws out tantrums the way Yusaku might skip school days, like they’re casual, temporary things. It’s become a pattern, a loose, patchwork form of events that he can’t quite escape from.

And it all starts because of the dates.

It happens like this: every weekend or free day Ai, will glance at Yusaku and smile in a way that seems to make his eyes light up. Not literally and not because he’s stuck in a SOLtiS body and can actually _do_ things like that, no. He’ll just...he’ll just be _happy_. His eyes will sparkle with no hint of a wattage increase behind them like a human’s, and Yusaku _knows_ that it’s probably because he’s in love, with chemicals in his brain holding him hostage that forces him to paint them gold in his mind’s eye, a startling streak of colour that others may see as only yellow or amber. But still, he, Yusaku, like a poor man, will mentally scramble after it, all too eager for it to stay. It’s enough to prompt him into getting up and walking out the door with said golden-eyed android, after Ai announces, all too brightly: ‘let's get outta here! Date-time!’

And he'll even tilt his head, the way he does when he thinks Yusaku is being a little too slow and murmur, 'you're not thinking of standing me up, right?'

Half the time Yuskau will ignore him and brush right past him, Ai's laugh ruffling his ear as the other falls into step by his side. Other times he'll tell Ai not to tempt him, if only because it'll make Ai smile at him knowingly

Still. Sometimes Yusaku does actually say 'yes' to that silly question. And then his partner always covers his mouth in fake horror, the shimmer in his eyes turning dull and appalled, and Yusaku _hates that_, he hates _Ai_ a little when his partner exclaims, ‘I’m shocked! Are you dumping me? How could you! Here I am wanting to spend some quality time together to deepen our passionate bond! And you just callously throw our past away like it means nothing!’

A bit rich, Yusaku thinks, considering how once upon a time Ai nearly threw himself away because he got lost in thoughts of bleak future and simulations he couldn’t escape from. In effect, _he_ was dumping _Yusaku_ and everything they had together.

But no. Most days, he tries not to hold onto that.

So, sometimes when he says no to the dates, it’s for a genuine reason, either because he’s tired or he has work to do. And in response Ai will toss his head, give him a scornful look that does not drive fire into his partner’s gut the way he seems to _think_ it should, and mutter, ‘oh boy, he really_ is_ dumping me again.’ And other nonsense like that.

But less often Yusaku tells him no just to prove to himself that he can. It’s mean-spirited, yes, but he knows he can’t afford to spoil Ai. And okay, on this occasion Ai is right when he accuses Yusaku of being mean or cold-hearted, for Yusaku can build up a stone wall against his partner when he has to, a wall against both him and the light in his eyes.

It's to drive the point home that Ai _shouldn’t _get everything he wants, especially _when_ he wants it. And true, Ai’s good about it, better than Bowman and Lightning, especially if all he does is sniff and pout about it. But Yusaku can’t forget the way he looked away from him, back when he confessed how scared he was of turning out like them, that image is stuck, forever locked inside his head. So, he, Fujiki Yusaku, the human Ai listens to, the human he _loves_, will say ‘no’ every now and then, because Ai needs it.

Hell, Yusaku himself needs it.

Even though these dates _are_ comprised of nice things, sometimes involving walks to places that are, he admits, quite pretty when the light falls against leaves or slithers over flowers, long before the shadows of evening slather themselves over their leaves to steal away their hue. And then every spike of colour, every pretty petal, is daubed blue. And Ai is always with him, even when the light fails, in a bustle of noise and colour, always there to chase away the silence, apart from the few times he may make a casual mention of Cyberse World or how Earth or Aqua loved to copy these flowers and spread them in meadows no human ever had the chance to see; all of those pretty patches ruthlessly destroyed by the Knights of Hanoi before Yusaku even knew Ai existed.

_Watch out_, he may have told his past self. _You have no idea what’s coming for you, ready to chase you out of the dark you’ve sealed yourself away inside. You won’t be prepared for him at all._

But no, at this point in his life, he’s ready to chase after Ai instead; in fact, he’s been doing so for months now. Which means he’s ready to hold Ai’s hand under the dying light, to watch the smile on his face as it falls and fades. For this is not a tantrum Ai falls into, it’s grief, something he can’t be saved from.

But not all the time. No, sometimes his words lap at Yusaku’s heels and it’s all his human partner can do to toss annoyed looks over his shoulder as Ai tells him to ‘hurry up, I’d rather see this one in person rather than pirating it,.' And he looks so sly when he says it, so mocking that the deadpan stare Yusaku gives him may as well be made of paper for all the good it does.

‘Seeing one movie, doesn’t make up for all the thousands you’ve seen illegally,’ he points out and Ai pouts.

‘Then we’ll see more! Loads more!’ he declares and Yusaku feels his heart sinking into his shoes.

Because...it’s not that Yusaku hates this whim of Ai’s exactly. Some small part of him enjoys the way his partner steers him into seats that feel a little too well concealed within the darkness of the cinema, to help create a little pocket of time where Ai’s hand will lap at his sleeve, dance over his fingers and grasp tight like a hook, as though to say _ah-ha!_ And he does enjoy watching Ai after the film has yanked on his partner’s attention, while the light from the screen wavers like water to fall over his face. Ai will be staring at the movie, entranced, and that very same gold Yusaku falls in love with every time he sees it will rise up to swirl round those strange irises, filling those eyes with wonder. The trouble is, that wonder is always awakened by some of the worse script writing Yusaku has ever had the displeasure to sit through.

‘I loved you since the moment I saw you,’ one of the characters says on one memorable occasion and Ai lets out a sigh as one mischievous hand flutters against Yusaku’s arm like a butterfly that’s afraid to perch.

‘What,’ says the other character with a sniff, ‘You mean out of that entire crowd at the disco, when you were puking your guts out, you saw me and thought ‘yep, that’s the one?’ You _liar_.’

And suddenly Yusaku finds himself liking this film, especially when Ai frowns and purses his lips in distaste.

But then another character, the cheesy one, will start to ruin it all by widening their eyes on the screen and saying, in a wondering tone, ‘you mean, there was a crowd around you, too?’

And then Ai’s hand on his arm becomes a wasp, it stings him, tightening, as Ai’s eyes gleam with excitement like a child with a new toy. And Yusaku will brace himself knowing that one day, one day _soon_ his partner’s going to use that same precise line on him. And quite possibly throw another tantrum when it doesn’t work as expected.

But the parts of these dates that really annoy Yusaku, that he can’t run away from successfully, are when Ai wraps an arm around him, and then says sweetly, in the most insistent tone he can manage, one that has Yusaku imagining a data storm in the distance: ‘Come on, Yusaku, I fancy something _sweet_.’ Then he’ll bare a grin, a malicious one, the same kind he may wear across a field at an opponent he’s duelling and say, while running his eyes all over a thoroughly fed-up Yusaku: ‘it’ll be my treat.’ And then he’ll stare expectantly as though he’s the treat in question.

Either way, it’s a filthy lie. Ai _can _treat Yusaku, but only if Yusaku is willing to let him pay with stolen money. Because there’s a definite drawback to Ai not being an official ‘person.’ So, more often or not, Yusaku will end up forking out the cash, unless he’s in a bad mood and Ai has to says in a wheedling tone, that’ll he’ll take the money from one of those ant-SOLtiS groups. And then it’s a little too easy to give in.

But most times...yeah.

‘Are you my sugar-daddy?’ Ai has the stupidity to tease on one occasion, all after shoving a stack of doughnuts and pretzels over the table to his human partner, _twenty_ at _least_, and far too many for a sixteen year old boy to eat. Yusaku stares at him, then at the glaze of sugar that glitters like diamonds over all those curves of dough, forcing the crust to shine. Then he gets up and leaves.

‘No!’ Ai wails after him. ‘Yusaku, don’t make me be a thief! Save me from myself! I’ll be the perfect kept-man, I promise!’

...it’s a wonder Yusaku loves him at all, really. But since the shop doesn’t deserve to have Ai the ‘thief’ inside it, he relents, goes back to the counter and delivers his hard-earned notes.

‘My hero,’ Ai purrs, attaching himself to his shadow and giving him a knowing look. ‘You always save me, in the end.’

Such an obvious remark doesn’t deserve a reply. But Yusaku does find himself softening when he sees his partner stop to collect all those uneaten items, wrapping them in napkins with artful bows, tiny ones that he reveals from beneath the magic curls of his mechanical fingers after a few seconds. And Yusaku finds them packed in his school lunch-box, ready for the next day, even unveiled on a plate Ai brings to him for breakfast the in the morning, airlifted down to his bed and sleepily blinking head. Ai grins at him, way too proud of himself as he decides to play his new role of waiter, complete with an apron tied round his waist.

Of course he ruins it all by jamming the plate right under Yusaku’s nose, crumbs in danger of spilling off into the sheets and insisting that Yusaku eat it all, right here and now.

Yusaku gives him a wry look. ‘Don’t you like to complain about my diet?’

‘It’s a treat, a treat! Besides, one doughnut is not going to cancel out all those hotdogs you stuff into your stomach. Or suddenly make you develop diabetes.’ Ai narrows his eyes. ‘Unless you’re rather I whisk it away and replace it with something more healthy?’ He asks this ominously, a clear and present threat in the way he shifts and looks down his nose at Yusaku; and not for the first time does Yusaku wonder how many times Ai feels exasperation touch him and whatever circuitry he holds inside, when Yusaku does not eat the most optimal food or chooses to forgo a meal entirely.

So he eats it. He’s not sure if it’s guilt that motivates him, or just the way Ai immediately preens and looks both content and ridiculous while kneeling beside Yusaku’s bed, his apron crinkling around his waist and pooling onto the floor.

But the truth of the matter is, as Yusaku knows is that he’s just horribly weak against plenty of the things Ai does. But then again, it balances itself out; it’s no secret that Ai has a weak spot when it comes to _him_. His partner crumples so easily, his frown wrinkling like paper whenever Yusaku tells him ‘no.’ It happens when he orders the largest ice cream sundae on the menu the next weekend, instead of something less likely to hurt Yusaku’s teeth and plonks it down in front of him. But mainly it’s because it’s not the ice cream that’s the problem. It’s what comes with it.

‘Say ‘ah!’ Ai will demand, lips pursed and sleeves rolled back, as though he’s prepared for war. The spoon will hover centimetres from Yusaku’s lips, whipped cream perched perilously on its edge, waiting to dip and fall like an avalanche from the wobbly mound of ice cream he has scooped it up with.

Yusaku gives him a look, well aware that if he does nothing, Ai will probably start pressing it insistently against his mouth and then he’ll have to contend with the smudges of cream left behind; the last time that had happened he had cooed at him, told Yusaku he was ‘growing up fast’ and cracked half-a-dozen lines about the new ‘beard’, before he had mentioned wanting to lick it off with his tongue. And then he had thrown a half-hearted tantrum when Yusaku had pressed a napkin firmly against his mouth instead.

‘I could have given you a free kiss!’ he had complained.

‘I didn’t realise you were charging for them,’ Yusaku had told him, feeling content at the way Ai had sputtered, spoon almost clattering from his fingers.

But this time Yusaku tells him: ‘I’m not a baby. I can feed myself.’

Ai immediately screws his face up in response. ‘But this is supposed to be romantic! Or sensual! Or both!’ He seizes a strawberry from the sundae and waves it front of Yusaku’s mouth like it’s a loaded gun. ‘Take a bite,’ he demands, eyes now mere slits, like a snake’s. ‘And _chew_.’ He makes it sound like a deadly threat.

Instead Yusaku plucks a marshmallow from the monstrosity of whipped cream and pops it into his mouth. And swallows it instantly, retaining stubborn eye contact with Ai the entire time, without giving himself time to _chew _as Ai puts it_._

Ai for his part, looks comically distressed. ‘Are you trying to choke yourself, just to spite me?’

‘I might be considering it,’ Yusaku replies, just to see his partner’s brow furrow some more and for him to declare somewhat outrageously:

‘Mean! Keep this up and I’ll be the one dumping you for once! Why do you play with me like this!?’

And okay, Yusaku will admit it; sometimes Ai’s tantrums are a little funny. A little. Enough to make him take another marshmallow and this time: _chew_. This of course makes Ai throw his hands up and declare him to be a ‘terrible date! It’s like you don’t want to get all lovey-dovey with me in the first place!’

_Well._ ‘Maybe not in public, Ai,’ Yusaku says calmly, offering himself a mental congratulatory pat on the back when Ai’s eye twitches and his hands do this odd spasm that has them clutching at mid air.

‘You’re not cute at all,’ Ai mutters after a moment and well, _good._ Out of the two of them, Yusaku has never been the cute one, not at all. Not that he’ll ever admit as such.

However there’s one particular tantrum he can’t dodge. It never happens on these dates. In fact it always happens after them, or on other days when he’s said ‘no’ to Ai or ignored him a few too many times.

And he always raises a brow on these occasions, and then tries to ignore his partner completely.

‘No!’ Ai will always shout at him in return, even though Yusaku hasn’t said a word. ‘You’re supposed to be awed and overcome with lust and rip it off me!’ His eyes narrow and his fists tense; he’s half a second away from stomping his foot, Yusaku can tell.

Instead Yusaku turns away and taps out a few more lines of code, ignoring the pointed sniff his partner gives him. The sooner he can banish the image of fishnet stockings, bunny ears, and ridiculously small jean shorts from his mind, the better. Sometimes it's even a butler outfit Ai tries to tempt him with.

But it’s always the same. The tantrum will end one of two ways. Either Ai will cross his arms and sulk for two seconds before distracting himself with something else and then, when Yusaku next turns round to face him, he will have changed back into something...better.

Or else he will refuse to banish the wretched clothing back into whatever hell he dragged it from, and will spend the next few minutes singing Yusaku’s name into his ear and running his hands over his partner’s by now too-stiff shoulders in what he thinks is a seductive manner but really is more akin to petting a cat. Which isn’t all bad, but then, while he’s feeling particularly brave, he'll try to wrestle Yusaku away from the keyboard and sling a casual and far-too exposed thigh over the lap he seems to think is waiting for him, before one of Yusaku’s hands will be torn off the keyboard entirely, fingertips forcibly pressed against the holes in the stockings that perch across Ai's false skin there.

Ai will look at him, gold glimmering in his eyes once again as he drags Yusaku's hand up and up, the percussion of Yuskau's hand across skin and stockings sounding like ripped silk, with each breath Yusaku pushes out sounding like more of the same; fragile and tortured. And then of course Ai will fold his fingers into the hem of some stupidly short jean shorts and pat them as though to say 'well done.'

'Yosh,' he'll say, if Yusaku decides to give in and trail his other hand across the diamond pattern he's just wrecked the most horrible sounds out of. 'You want to help create a ladder in these tights?’ And then his head will tilt, his eyes will shine, and his smile will slide into an outright smirk. ‘C’mon, Yusaku-chan,' he'll murmur. 'They’re already damaged...I bet it wouldn’t take much to rip them away and find _something else_ to mess up, hmm?’

Although when Ai dons the butler outfit instead, he’s always asking, ‘how shall I serve you tonight, Yusaku-sama?’ And then he’ll start agressively worrying at the knot in Yusaku’s school tie with his teeth, or else drag fingers round his thin human neck. Especially if Yuskau's not in his school uniform. Then Ai thinks the area beneath the veil of shadows the ridge of his hood casts up is fair game, or the hemline of his t-shirt, as he attempts to draw Yusaku into a kiss.

Because, yes. This is Yusaku’s life now. Placating an AI who thinks their relationship should mirror manga or televised dramas, and who cannot seem to get it into his dumb head, that no, wearing something new does _not_ mean Yusaku wants to drop everything else in his life and rip it off him off him in some frenzied performance worthy of those boy-love novels he’s seen Ai proudly read, all while reclining on his threadbare duvet like a king. 

It’s got to the stage where Yusaku has lost count of the dumb lines Ai sprouts. Anything from ‘Ai-chan's a hungry little rabbit, aren’t you going to feed me?’ while running a hand over those ridiculous bunny ears as though to make them twitch, to ‘I’m just a dumb AI-_oooh,_ no, that’s a forbidden word, _myyyy my_, now you’ll have to punish me~.’

It’s...tiring. And unhelpful. Especially since Ai is the one being in the cosmos that he doesn’t have a problem with touching. And at times, wants to touch a bit _too_ much.

So sometimes he’ll shove him off; gently, of course. Other times he’ll chase him away with a hard stare, no matter how much he finds certain body parts stiffening under the wriggles of his over-excited partner. Ai can feel it, of course, but he knows better than to push, though his disappointed sigh when he slides off is always a little too theatrical for Yusaku’s taste.

But sometimes, more often than Yusaku will like, he finds himself giving in, curling a hand in that rumpled hair and treating it as a piece of sturdy rope to pull in his partner close. Because he figures Ai _should_ be unlucky enough to have to bare himself to his unmerciful tongue, in more ways than one.

‘I don’t believe in animal cruelty,’ Yusaku tells him, one night, between kisses, gasping as a tongue retreats back from his. He yanks off those stupid bunny ears and lets them tumble to the floor with satisfaction, for now his fingers can card through Ai’s hair without interruption. ‘But discipline is another matter.’

And on another day, when Ai has wrapped himself up in black and white, all prim and proper the way he thinks a butler should be, Yusaku says, quite cuttingly, ‘you _are_ a dumb AI; but there’s no cure for that, so punishment isn’t going to work. I guess, I’ll just have to reboot you entirely and since you don’t have an obvious ‘off’ button...’ Yusaku trails off, pushing him down, to the floor or the bed, _anywhere at all_, it’s not like Ai can get bruises, not proper ones. But he’s still careful when he touches, when he peels off those stupid clothes his partner has the _dumbest_ ideas about.

‘Mmmm, you’re unwrapping me like chocolate,’ Ai murmurs, basking in the attention and looking thoroughly delighted as he does so.

...Yusaku almost stops on sheer principle. Almost.

‘Very cheap chocolate,’ he tells him, and then dives down to stop the next tantrum with his mouth.

Because sometimes, on good days, he can afford to stop these petulant demands or retorts before they start. And it’s fine. He can live with them. When Ai looks at him, all watery eyed, despite the fact that there’s no actual water in those projected eyeballs, none at all, and says ‘I love you,’ a brash declaration to his face, it makes something in him stop, crash, and burn and unfurl. And sometimes, just the way Ai pushes out his name ‘Yusaku’, makes it a plea, a song, to carve another bewitching spell against his heart as they move with each, one in a way Ai failed to propose once, just one duelling move away from death...

He wonders why anyone would think Ai shouldn't be able to feel and love and live.

But he knows better. And thinks of what others could say. What plenty may still say, and how they may impress the importance of forging this kind of connection with someone who has actual flesh and bone, warmth he can engulf in his arms that does not bleed from any motor.

I love him, he could bother to tell them. And they could sneer back, read out lines of code, tear apart diagrams of SOLtiS heads and show the clockwork image of the circuits inside, things that do not slurp and run and spill out red when they break.

This is what you love, they may say in return. This is what you lie next to, what you hold and touch and marvel at. A computer, housing clever code that says I love you back. Zeros and ones, looped into human language. Processing, but not getting it, not really.

Maybe he would have once thought the same, once upon a time. But the sparkle in Ai’s eyes, no matter how artificial the lights that house his irises are, and the way he laughs, in a jangle of noise that has nothing robotic about it…

I think, Yusaku will tell them, whenever he meets them, whoever they are, I’ll take my chances. Tantrums and all.

Except he won’t. What he feels for Ai is his, something kept close and guarded, not to be brought out into the light, to be jeered at or ripped apart, in the very same way Ai himself could be, if they aren’t careful enough.

And that’s _his_ stubborn tantrum against the world, silent and unrelenting, something even Ai couldn’t persuade him to drop. Because they’re both brats, he and Ai. The difference is, Yusaku has learnt to stomp his own foot in his head, out of sight. But it’s still there, that stubborn thud, in every beat of heart, in every word he speaks to Ai, a constant rhythm underlying the breath that gets pulls out of his lungs, then races back in.

_I love you,_ he thinks more than he says, meeting Ai’s confessions with his eyes, and his face, letting it soften and show things nobody else gets to see._ I love you. Don’t you **dare** take that away. Not again._

And Ai must see because sometimes locked together, he calls Yusaku an ‘immature brat’ and chuckles fondly, as though he’s the only one who can see the joke. Well. Perhaps that’s true enough.

Takes one to know one, Yusaku thinks, and hauls Ai in even closer. He’s content to let this tantrum of his continue; because he’s sure as hell never going to let anyone talk him out of it.

Not even Ai.

**Author's Note:**

> I may have shamelessly stolen an exchange between the Twelveth Doctor and Clara Oswald from Doctor Who in the first episode of season nine, and then modified it for those two unamed fictional characters Ai is entraced by. Because...well, it was a killer exchange. And smooth as hell.
> 
> I tried to make this one a bit dorkier though.
> 
> Unfun fact: this was orginally all written in the second person tense, because I love doing so a little too much and then I went oh no, I like reserving that for Ai's point of view, and thus a lot of editing was done.


End file.
